


A Murder in the Pillars

by LemonCakeDesign



Series: Across the Universe [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Gen, Murder Mystery, in which the author has no idea how police work but is trying his best
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23391922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonCakeDesign/pseuds/LemonCakeDesign
Summary: Detective Aymeric de Borel has a knack for finding the truth, something that serves him well as the head of the Major Crimes department in the capital city of Ishgard. But when the murder of Commander Haurchefant Greystone lands on his desk, he finds that knack may lead him down a dangerous path.
Relationships: Haurchefant Greystone/Warrior of Light
Series: Across the Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860922
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

_ The City of Ishgard, Capital of the Coerthan Province. April 15th. Wednesday. _

Aymeric is already having the longest day of his life when he gets the call.

He’s fresh off a meeting with his father (though of course it’s only ever “General” in those moments) into a stack of paperwork so high it nearly towers over him, no small feat at his height. He’s already seen a few of the higher ranked intelligence officials to turn over some details on the Iceheart case, been grilled for answers on the Nidhogg Brood movements, and the one functional coffee pot in the office has finally kicked the bucket.

So there’s a moment when he hears “shooting in the Pillars,” he wants to put his head down and scream.

But Aymeric is nothing if not a professional, so he just bottles up that urge, throws it onto the growing pile of stressors that he’ll definitely deal with when he’s less busy (read: never), and rallies his team to head off to the scene.

The cold Coerthan air stings his cheeks as he exits the SUV and crosses under the police tape, Lucia and Estinien just steps behind him. Lucia’s already snapping on a pair of latex gloves and splits off to where the body is, asking precise questions of the ME nearby. Estinien sticks with Aymeric as he identifies the lead officer on the scene and heads over.

He’s lucky today, as Firmalbert is the lead, and they’ve worked together often enough that Aymeric can simply nod and wait for the rundown.

“Victim is a male, early 30s,” Firmalbert starts. “Single GSW to the chest. Two primary witnesses, the victim’s husband and his bodyguard.” he motions to where two figures are huddled, speaking with one of the officers. There’s a brief pause as they both place the man.

“Shit,” Estinien curses lowly. “That’s Pike fucking L’oatel. And that would make the victim…”

Firmalbert nods. “Commander Haurchefant Greystone, leader of the Dragonhead encampment, and son of Count Edmont de Fortemps.”

“Damn,” Aymeric says. “I didn’t know Commander Greystone very well, but we’ve met. He’s...he was a nice man. What’s the story from the witnesses?”

“Patrounade’s still taking their statements now, but from what I’ve heard, the Commander and his husband were taking a walk near the Vault, and someone shot at them.” Firmalbert gestures to Pike and his bodyguard. “If you want to talk to them yourself, Detective de Borel, be my guest. I can send Patrounade to speak with some of the minor witnesses.”

Aymeric hums for a second. “Yes, I think that’ll be best. Estinien, go with Patrounade, and grab Lucia when she’s done. I don’t want a stone unturned.”

Estinien nods. “On it.”

They walk over to Patrounade and his charges, and Patrounade shoots a well-disguised look of discomfort towards Firmalbert as they approach. It’s easy to tell why; Pike is sobbing, loudly, into a handkerchief, while his bodyguard brushes the bright-dyed blue hair from his face tenderly.

Aymeric sighs internally. He’s heard stories about Pike L’oatel. Biggest pop star of the time, easily, and with the dramatics to match. Cancelled shows over candy choices in the green room, blow ups with background dancers that got them blacklisted in the industry, and apparently more than a few ruined hotel rooms. To put it simply: Pike L’oatel was a diva of the highest order.

And Aymeric was stuck dealing with him. Great.

Aymeric schools his features, laying on the thick charm he’d been tutored in from birth. “Mister L’oatel?” he says in a gentle voice. The loud sobbing chokes off as Pike raises his head to look up at him. “I’m Detective de Borel, I’ll be the lead investigator on your husband’s case. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Is this necessary?” The bodyguard snaps. “He’s already been over it once with the other officer.” She shifts, and Aymeric notices the gun strapped to her hip. 

“I’m afraid so, Miss…?”

“Skye, Valliant Skye.” Valliant’s voice doesn’t lose the aggressive tone. “It can’t wait? Look at him, he’s clearly—”

Pike waves a hand, tipped in painted blue nails, and cuts her off. “It’s fine, darling,” he says, voice raspy from the tears. “He’s just trying to do his job, and I could never forgive myself if I missed something and the bastards who did this got away with it.”

“I’ll do everything in my power to ensure that doesn’t happen, Mister L’oatel,” Aymeric says. “Now, do you mind walking me through what led up to this?” He pulls a notepad out of his back pocket, and flips it open to an empty page.

Pike nods, sniffing a little as he starts. “I’ve been having a bit of medical trouble since I got married. The doctors think it’s related to stress from that nasty business in Ul’dah, so I’ve been ordered to cancel all my upcoming events and rest. Haurchefant noticed the weather had been clearing up, and he thought a walk might do us both some good.”

He dabs at his eyes with the handkerchief, smearing the dark mascara around his purple eyes even further. Pike looks the perfect picture of a grieving widow, Aymeric notes, down to the crying that somehow manages to avoid making him look splotchy and red.

After a deep breath, he continues. “Anyway, as we were walking, Haurchefant mentioned that it might be nice to stop into the cathedral. He is—” Pike stops, for a moment, and breathes again, heavily. “He  _ was _ such a devout man, and I think he wished to pray for my recovery. But just as we entered the doorway, he suddenly turned, and pushed me out of the way. That’s when-when-wh-” Pike suddenly dissolves into sobs again, and Valliant shoots Aymeric a nasty glare as she tries to calm him down.

Aymeric waits patiently, though, and after a few moments Pike manages to collect himself and continue, though choking back tears the entire time. “I-I heard the gunshot, then, a-and Haurchefant fell back. He sl-slid down the steps, and I r-ran after him. Valliant went to go check out the cathedral, and I tried-tried to apply pressure to wound, but there was so much  _ blood _ , too much, and he was only able to say a few words to me before-before he d-d-died.” The tears fall in earnest then.

“And those were?”

Pike pauses for a brief moment, then replies in a tense voice. “Irrelevant, Detective. And private. He told me he loved me, to sum it up for you. Forgive me if I’m not eager to hand over the last moment we had together.”

“I meant no offense, Mister L’oatel,” Aymeric says, holding his writing hand up in surrender. “I only meant to ascertain if he had seen his attacker or not.”

“No, of course you didn’t,” Pike says with a sigh, the anger sliding out of his features. He twists perfectly manicured fingers around the damp handkerchief, seemingly embarrassed by his reaction. “He didn’t mention anything of the sort, of course. I held his hand as he passed on, and then the police arrived. That’s all that I can tell you, Detective.”

Aymeric nods to him. “And you, Miss Skye? Do you have anything to add?”

“Not much,” she says tersely. “I followed Pi-Mister L’oatel and his husband at a distance. Once I heard the gunshot, I ran over, but my sweep of the main room of the cathedral turned up nothing. Whoever shot him did so with either enough distance or with a clear enough exit that by the time I got there, they were gone. After that, I returned to Mister L’oatel’s side to protect him, but there were no subsequent gunshots or attacks.”

Aymeric nods again. “Thank you, Miss Skye. I’m very sorry about your loss, Mister L’oatel. I didn’t know your husband very well, but from what I did know, he was a good man.”

Pike gives him a watery smile. “I’m sure he would have been very glad to hear that, Detective.” He pauses for a moment, then shakes himself. “Are we finished, then? I still need to inform Count Edmont and the rest of my family, and I don’t like the idea of keeping them waiting.”

“Just a few more questions, I apologize.” Aymeric gives a remorseful smile to Pike, and judging by the resigned set of his shoulders, it has the intended effect. “Did you or your husband have any enemies?”

“Haurchefant? No, never.” Pike sighs wistfully. “Everybody loves- _ loved _ him.” He pauses again, briefly, and his cheeks color slightly. “I, on the other hand, have quite the list. I assume you’ve heard of my rather... _ extreme _ reactions. I’ve made quite a few people angry, over the years. None enough to try to kill me or my husband, I don’t think, but…”

Valliant nudges him. “What about the thing? In Ul’dah.”

“Ul’dah?” Aymeric questions. “I heard there had been a terrorist attack at the Sultana’s gala, but not that you were directly involved.”

“It’s not related to that, I don’t think,” Pike says sheepishly. “I announced my engagement just before my show at the gala, and it came as a shock to many of my fans. I got a few angry letters from some of the more...devoted type, but I dismissed them as just teenage angst. But…” Pike sighs. “There was a young man, who was caught sneaking into the hotel room I was staying in, and he was carrying a gun.”

Aymeric pauses for a moment. “I see how that might be relevant, yes.”

“I had thought Pipin was dealing with the man, though,” Pike says, looking over at Valliant. “Sorry, Detective, Pipin Tarupin, he’s the Marshall for Ul’dah right now. If you contact him, I’m sure he’d be more than willing to give you the details. I don’t actually know the name of the man. It was harder to care about, after the attack.”

Aymeric jots the name and relevant information down on his notes. “I’ll need you to bring us any other letters you received around that time or since.”

“Valliant, can you make a note of that?” Pike asks, and Valliant nods to him. “Great. I won’t be in much state to remember anything tonight, I think. Anything else, Detective?”   


“Not at the current moment, no,” Aymeric says. He shuts the notepad with a snap, and reaches into his jacket, pulling out a business card. “Here. My direct desk number. If you remember anything else of importance, no matter how little, feel free to call me any time. I’ll have Lucia—sorry, Detective Junius, reach out if we need more from you. And if you don’t mind, Mister L’oatel, will you send my condolences to Count Edmont? It’s been quite some time since I’ve seen him, but he was friends with my father, and I remember him quite fondly.”

“Of course, Detective.” Pike takes the business card distractedly, handing it off to Valliant. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it. If you’ll excuse me.”

He rushes off before Aymeric can say anything further, his bodyguard close at his heels. Aymeric stands for a moment, watching him go, before turning as Estinien approaches.

“Witnesses are a bust,” Estinien says. “Nobody close enough to see anything useful, nobody in the church. All the deacons and officials are out on business today, apparently.”

“Hm,” Aymeric hums to himself. “Coincidence, or planning?”

“Damned if I know. Anything useful from the husband, or the bodyguard?”

“He had a pretty clear memory of the event, all things told, but didn’t see any shooters or the like. Bodyguard was too far away, ran in after the shooting, but you know how the Vault is, it’d be easy to disappear in there. Got a lead on a potential, seems L’oatel’s been threatened before, and with a gun too.”   


Estinien whistles lowly. “Imagine that’s why he has the bodyguard, then. What was with her, anyway? She looked ready to rip your head off at the beginning, there.’

Aymeric shrugs absently. “Overprotective, probably overpaid, too.”

“Better be, she was packing some serious heat, and that doesn’t come cheap,” Estinien points out. “You know how the permit office is about civilian weapons here, so I’m betting some sort of private military write-offs.”

“That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

Estinien casts a long look over at the dead body of Haurchefant Greystone, now being zipped up into a bodybag for transport. “Considering the circumstances? I don’t think I’d feel like it was enough.”

* * *

_ The City of Ishgard, Capital of the Coerthan Province. April 16th. Thursday. _

With the Iceheart case officially on hold, pending confirmation of her death, and the Nidhogg Brood quiet for the first time in months, Aymeric’s able to turn his and his team’s full attention to the Greystone case.

Unfortunately for them, it’s slow going. Lucia’s spent nearly an hour on hold already with the police department in Ul’dah. Understandably, they’re still busy with the fall out of the recent terrorist attack, trying to keep peace with their terrified citizens while the perpetrators remain at large, but it means that their case has to stall on it’s only lead for the time.

Lucia’s got the easy work, though, because Estinien’s spent the whole day fielding calls from frightened nobles. She watches as he slams the phone down after what sounded like an exhausting back and forth with one of the Haillenharte scions, and then slams the receiver a few more times for good measure.

“Fucking nobles,” Estinien spits, leaning back dramatically in his chair. “One of them gets shot and the rest run around acting like it’s open season on their overstuffed heads.”

Lucia shrugs. “When was the last time anyone was killed in the Pillars, though? It’s understandable.”

“Yes, but it shouldn’t be my bloody problem.” He huffs and crosses his arms. “Any luck on your end?”

She gestures to the phone still held to her ear. Estinien sighs loudly.

“Excuse me? Are you the ones working on Haurchefant’s case?”

They both turn to look behind them, at a short woman, maybe late 20s, with light purple hair pulled back in a neat bun. She’s wearing an expensive looking, well cut pink suit, and carrying a large, wrapped bundle in her arms. She also looks incredibly nervous, her eyes darting around the room at light speed.

Lucia thinks for exactly one moment, and motions for Estinien to take over her phone. He can yell at the police officers, they’ll just yell right back, but this woman looks like she’s fit to burst into tears if anyone looks at her the wrong way. “Yes ma’am,” Lucia says as she hands the phone off. “I’m Detective Junius, and that’s Detective Wyrmblood. How can I help you?”

The woman smiles, though it shakes at the corners. “My name is Tataru Taru, I’m Mister L’oatel’s personal assistant. Valliant asked me to bring these over for you?”

Lucia takes the package from her. “Ah. The letters Mister L’oatel’s received?”   


“Yes, Detective,” Tataru says. “Every one. I went back a bit further than before Ul’dah because—” and here she flushes, looking away from Lucia. 

“Yes?” Lucia pauses from where she’s been untying the strings holding the bundle together. It’s huge, and she can feel a late night weighing on her shoulders just looking at it.

Tataru flushes even deeper, and then squeaks out a terrified, “Promise you won’t tell Mister L’oatel!”

_ By the Fury, _ Lucia thinks. Pike’s staff is just as dramatic as he is, it seems. Maybe he chooses them that way. She sighs and sets the bundle on Estinien’s desk, ignoring the glare he sends her. “Come with me, Miss Taru.”

Tataru follows her cautiously, as Lucia leads her to one of the informal interview spaces. It’s little more than a table and a few chairs, set next to one of their vending machines, but the lack of the two way mirror and isolated box tends to put people at ease. Tataru relaxes considerably as Lucia pulls out a chair for her, sitting across from her.

“Bit more private here, Miss Taru—”

“Please, just call me Tataru,” she interrupts in a shaky voice. “Everyone else does.”   


Lucia nods. “Tataru, then. As I was saying, this is a bit more private. So you can rest assured nothing will get back to Mister L’oatel, okay? Feel free to tell me what’s on your mind.”

Tataru sighs out a nervous breath. “You have to understand, Detective, I really did think I was doing the right thing for Pike—Mister L’oatel. He’s a very good boss, you see—treats me right, pays me well, and never asks for too much. But he’s...:” she frowns as she searches for the right words. “He’s a bit sensitive, sometimes, is all. Everyone’s heard the stories—people call him a diva, an attention whore—” she stumbles over that word with a cut-off giggle, like she’s telling some private joke. “And that’s not quite right, but I know it seems that way from the outside. And he’d come under a lot of attention recently for a string of messed up hotel rooms, and he was really stressed about it all—”

Lucia sighs, cutting her off. “The point, Tataru?”

“Right, sorry, I ramble when I’m nervous.” Tataru gives herself a little shake, and her voice is stronger when she speaks again. “The point is, when the first letter came in, I—I hid it from him. It was so over the top with the declarations of love and-and  _ obsessive _ , though I didn’t really get that at the time. Anyway, I knew Pike would be so distracted, he wouldn’t be able to do the mi-the show he had scheduled. So I hid it. And then I hid the next one, and the one after that, and on and on until—oh, it must have been January. Right before he announced the engagement, that’s when the last letter came in.”

“This is the one you showed him?”   


“Oh, no—second to last, then.” Tataru twists her fingers together tightly. “I-I had just thought that if he didn’t get a response, the letter writer would just give up, but he kept going and going. And then the announcement happened, and the letter got very violent. It’s hard to read, actually, and it scared Pike enough that he got Valliant special weapons permits, which are even harder to get in Ul’dah than they are here. And then he woke up with a man pointing a gun at his face the next day. He was really rather lucky, the gun jammed and Pike was able to wake Valliant up and she dealt with him.”

“I see. And then the terrorist attack, and…” Lucia trails off, waving her hand in a continuing motion.

“Yes, but we all thought that there would be no way for Zenos to get here.” Tataru settles her hands on her lap. “Ishgard is very hard to get into, as I’m sure you know. The only reason we are here is because of Pike’s marriage, and Count Edmont’s generosity. And though people know Pike is here because of the wedding, he lives in one of the less descript manor houses in the Pillars. He actually wanted to move into the Brume, said he liked the people there better, but he would stand out too much, I’m afraid. He’s rather like a peacock, in some ways.” Tataru titters out a laugh, and Lucia smiles in response.

“I got the sense, yes. Is there anything else you can tell me about this man—you said his name was Zenos?”

Tataru nods. “Yes. I’m afraid I don’t know his last name, he never put it in the letters. I don’t know much more beyond what I told you, either. I wasn’t there when Pike was attacked, and with all the stress of the attack in Ul’dah, I’m afraid we haven’t heard much.” She stands, then, and Lucia follows. “All I could tell you would be the content of the letters, and you have those. I think it would be better read than re-told.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Lucia says. “Thank you for your time, Tataru. I’ll contact you if I need any more information.” She extends her hand to Tataru to shake.

Tataru takes it with a firm shake, her earlier nervousness clearly soothed by talking with Lucia. “Thank you, Detective. I hope the letters help you catch whoever did this, and quickly. I’d hate to think they’d hurt anyone else.”   


“You and me both, Tataru.”

Lucia walks her to the exit, and then she settles herself into her desk chair with a sigh. Estinien makes a commiserating noise from his own desk, where he’s already opened the package containing the letters and is going through them. 

Lucia slides her chair over and grabs a stack of the letters. “Judging by the fact that you are no longer on the phone, I assume that it didn’t go anywhere?”

“Of course not,” Estinien says with a snort, eyes scanning the letter in his hands. “That would be too easy. Marshall Tarupin is busy, apparently, and he handled the case personally, so no one else has any information on it.”

“None? Not even a case file?” Lucia looks up at Estinien.

He shrugs unhelpfully. “Sultana’s request, apparently. None of them wanted to make a big deal of it right before the gala, so it was kept  _ severely _ under wraps. Rich people, Lucia, they can do whatever they want.”   


Lucia frowns to herself. There’s something about the whole deal that hasn’t sat well with her. From what Aymeric had said, Pike hadn’t even seemed concerned about Zenos in the first place, very blasè for someone who had a gun pointed at their face. Shock, maybe, because he had just seen someone shoot his husband in front of him, but...she has a hunch.

She looks back down at the letters in her hands, and with a determined set to her shoulders, gets to work.

* * *

_ The City of Ishgard, Capital of the Coerthan Province. April 17th. Thursday. _

With the coffee machine in their office still broken, Aymeric finds himself making a coffee run for his team.

The Forgotten Knight makes a convenient stop due to its proximity to the Convocation. The fact that Gibrillont has the whole team’s orders memorized by this point helps, too. And the fact that he makes a damn fine cup of coffee.

Aymeric makes eye contact with the man in question as soon as he enters, and gets a nod in return. Gibrillont barks the order to his employee before Aymeric’s even neared the counter. 

“Better double that, actually,” Aymeric says. “The coffee machine finally died at the office.”

“Bad luck, then,” Gibrillont replies as he swipes Aymeric’s card. “Heard there was a shooting in the Pillars. Your team on it, then?”

“Who else?” Aymeric shrugs wearily. “Only Major Crimes department in the whole city, after all.”

Gibrillont hums commiseratingly. “It was Commander Greystone that got shot, right? Too bad. Good man.”

Aymeric slips off to the side, so he’s not blocking the only register. Not that there’s many, right now, at that odd space in the workday where most people are too busy or too close to going home to dip out for a coffee break. “You knew him?”

“Sort of. Know his husband better. He’s in all the time, always wants to talk to Hilda. She actually likes him, believe it or not.”

“Really,” Aymeric replies with no small interest. Gibrillont’s daughter was  _ notoriously _ antisocial. A pop star, especially one like Pike, was hardly the person he could imagine her getting along with. “...why?”   


“Dunno.” Gibrillont nods to his employee as she sets the last of the drinks down on the counter. “Might be the music, though, she keeps mentioning a ‘project’ they’re working on. He’s a nice man, any rate. Tips well. Endlessly devoted to his husband, too. I saw one of my regulars try to flirt with him, one of the more attractive soldiers, and it was like Pike didn’t even notice him.”

Aymeric tries not to get too personal with his cases, but he can’t help but feel a bit sad at hearing that. He knows tragedy doesn’t discriminate, of course, that unfair things happen to even the best people, but when it’s love like that it always hits just a little more bitterly. “I see,” is all he replies, before grabbing the carrying trays for the coffee. “See you tomorrow, Gibrillont, and probably the next few days. Fury knows we won’t see that coffee machine fixed any time soon.”

Gibrillont laughs a little at that. “Tell you what, I’ll have Hilda bring you folks one of the travelers tomorrow morning. No sense in having you come all this way every day, not when you’ve got important work to do.”   


“Thanks, Gibrillont.” Aymeric flashes him a bright smile. He looks down at the coffee in his hands, and then frowns. “You might want to have a talk with your barista, too.”

“Alicia? What’d she do?”

Aymeric pulls his cup out of the caddy, showing Gibrillont the phone number written on the side. “I’m flattered, but she’s...not quite my type.”   


Gibrillont sighs. “Foolish girl. Get back to work, Aymeric, I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Aymeric replaces the coffee and departs with a wave, laughing a little to himself as he hears Gibrillont shouting for his barista.

Outside the doors of the Forgotten Knight, though, he sighs wearily to himself. Back to work, and if the sense of foreboding has anything to say about it, it’s going to be another long day for him.


	2. Chapter 2

_ The City of Ishgard, Capital of the Coerthan Province. April 18th. Friday. _

_ My dearest friend, _

_ Letter after letter I have begun, and letter after letter I have discarded. _

_ What words, after all, could begin to describe the feelings between us? Too great, the bond we have, to be conveyed through speech alone. And yet this is my only avenue to express such to you, my friend, for I can find no other way to contact you. _

_ Do you remember me? That night, our eyes met, and I  _ felt _ , like I have never felt before. The fire in you, the way you moved, everything. I felt  _ alive _ , my friend. And I know you felt it too. The way you burned with passion, that translated into such grace! Truly, nothing could compare to the moment we shared, then. _

_ But I would like to find out, my dearest friend. To see you once more, to experience the joy of your company, perhaps even closer than before… _

“Fury, these letters are disturbing,” Estinien says aloud, shuddering. “This was  _ not _ the sort of wake up call I needed this morning.”

“You’re telling me,” Lucia says, setting down her own letter. “Listen to this. ‘My dearest friend, I saw you once more today. The bagel you ate, the ferocity with which you attacked it! I would like so dearly to experience your passion once more.’”

Estinien frowns at the bagel, sitting on his own desk. It suddenly looks less appetising than before. He shoves it into the trash can by his desk, sending Lucia a dirty look. “Thank you for that.”

She simply shrugs, her eyes falling back to the page to continue reading. Estinien sighs and stretches, before standing. “I’m grabbing some coffee,” he says to Lucia. “Want me to grab you one?”

Lucia doesn’t even look up, just hands him her mug. He scowls at her, but with her attention on the letter, she doesn’t even notice. Estinien snatches her mug and heads off to the break room. 

_ Thank the Fury for Gibrillont _ , he thinks to himself. With the late nights he’s been pulling recently, he doubts he could have made it through the day without coffee. He fills Lucia’s mug and his own from the travellers, and takes a moment to breathe to himself.

Alberic walks in, then, and Estinien’s hands clench around the mug. “Morning, Estinien,” Alberic says. Estinien just grunts and shifts out of the way of the coffee with a glare. Alberic grabs one of the paper cups. “Are you still mad at me?” the older man asks as he fills his cup.

“Take a  _ fucking _ guess, Alberic. You took me off of  _ my _ case, and then shut the whole investigation down.” Estinien’s knuckles are white. “Yeah, I’m  _ still mad _ .”

Alberic sighs. “You know exactly why I took you off the case, Estinien. And why it’s on hold. I’m not going to risk your life—”

“No, just the lives of the people of Ishgard.” Estinien makes a disgusted noise. “The Brood’s not just being quiet because we dealt with a few key people. They’re planning something.”

“That’s your hunch, yes. We need evidence to act on anything, Estinien.”

Estinien slams his hand onto the counter. “I didn’t go undercover with the Brood just for you to decide I based this all on a  _ hunch _ —”

Alberic cuts him off, his voice rising to match Estinien. “And I didn’t fish your body out of the Coerthas River just to risk any more of my people on this, Estinien! Running in headlong like this, this is how the Brood gets what they want. So the investigation is on hold until you either  _ let go _ or we see some activity from them.”

Estinien swipes Lucia’s coffee off the counter and storms out of the break room. Alberic doesn’t follow him. 

_ Fine _ , he thinks.  _ I’ll just do it myself. _

* * *

_ The City of Ishgard, Capital of the Coerthan Province. April 18th. Friday. _

Count Edmont is just as intimidating as Aymeric remembers from his childhood.

People have always underestimated the head of the Fortemps family, reading the kind smile and generally laissez faire attitude as an opportunity to steamroll. But Aymeric’s seen the man destroy too many political opponents, and knows better.

A servant sets a tray with tea in front of them, and departs with a bow. Edmont pours them both a cup, and picks up his own with practiced grace.

“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me today, Count Edmont,” Aymeric says, taking a sip of his own tea.

“Of course, Detective.” Edmont is all smiles, but the edges of it are weary and betray more than the Count would likely enjoy. “I want this solved as fast as you do, I imagine.”

“Of course.” Aymeric nods. “Rest assured, sir, that I have my best people working on this.”

“Including yourself,” Edmont notes.

“Including myself.” Aymeric sets his tea down and picks up his notepad. “I understand that some of these questions may be distressing to you, sir, but the more information I have, the better.”

Edmont nods wearily. “Of course, Detective.”

Aymeric flips open his notepad and clicks his pen. “Did your son have any enemies?”

“None, as far as I knew.” Edmont still hasn’t touched his tea. “Haurchefant never mentioned any issues with anyone, at any rate. Pike would know better than I on that front, however. I doubt my son would have told me anything like that.”

Aymeric scribbles away. “And you, Count Edmont? Any enemies?”

“Not recently, no. I’ve relaxed my sharp tongue in my old age, you see, and much of the political dealings of my house have been passed to Artoirel.” Edmont sighs. “And there was no love lost between those two, unfortunately. Though they’d been getting along recently, thanks to Pike, I doubt that it would have placed a target on his back.”

“I see.” Aymeric takes a settling breath, excising the frustration welling within him. He hadn’t expected much, truthfully, but with his only lead looking to be some form of stalker who’s status they can’t even confirm, it’s hard to keep a clear mind. “Miss Skye mentioned that Mister L’oatel had a stalking incident, in Ul’dah. Has there been repeat incidents, to your knowledge? Anything that Mister L’oatel may not have known about?”

“You mean Zenos Galvus?” Edmont shakes his head. “You’d be best served asking Valliant about that, she handles all the security. He did receive some more letters, but I understand your team has those.”

So, more nothing. Aymeric grits his teeth against the tide of frustration that threatens to rise once more. He drains the rest of his tea in lieu of lashing out.

“Do you have any more questions for me, Detective?” Edmont asks, tiredly. 

“Just to ask where I might find Miss Skye,” he says. “I believe my questions might be better served with her.”

Edmont nods. “In the yard, I believe. One of Pike’s wards, Alisiae, usually has her martial arts training at this time.”

“Mister L’oatel has wards?” Aymeric asks. He’s been reading up on Pike L’oatel, scouring articles for leads, and he hasn’t seen a single mention of that so far. 

“Yes, two. Alisiae and Alphinaud Leveilleur.” Edmont smiles fondly. “Both quite bright and wonderful children. Pike has done his best to keep them out of the spotlight, and I hope that it can remain that way, Detective.”

“I’ll do my best, sir,” Aymeric says. The name “Leveilleur” sounds familiar to him, but he can’t quite place it at the current moment. “I can show myself to the yard, if you’re alright with that.”

Edmont gestures tiredly with one hand. “Of course, Detective.”

Aymeric exits the room and heads through the manor. It’s been a while since he’s been to the Fortemps manor, not since his childhood, but it’s not hard to look for the wide doors that lead out towards a precisely landscaped yard. He remembers being relegated out here while his father and Edmont discussed politics and whatever else, told to go play with Emmanellain. He never did, though, as he and Emmanellain never really meshed well, and instead he would roam the large garden, watching the birds and other animals go about their days.

Aymeric’s shaken from his reminiscence at the sight of Valliant and a young teenage girl battling it out in the wide open part of the yard. The girl, who must be the Alisiae that Edmont mentioned, sweeps Valliant’s legs from under her, and Valliant goes down, hard. Alisiae has her pinned in a moment, fist poised to strike. Valliant, however, flips her over, pressing a knee firmly into her back. 

After a moment, Valliant releases her grip, and extends a hand down to Alisiae. “Good work, kiddo, but you’re still leaving yourself open during your pins. You’re too small to pin me with body mass alone.”

“I can’t help it,” Alisiae complains, taking Valliant’s hand and pulling herself up. “I’m used to having a—oh. Hello. Who are you?”

It takes Aymeric a second to realize she’s addressing him. “Detective Aymeric De Borel. I’m with the Ishgardian police department, investigating—”

“Lord Haurchefant’s murder,” Alisiae says. “Oh, you’re the  _ pretty _ detective Pike mentioned. I see what he meant.”   
  


Aymeric feels himself blush, and he looks off to the side. “I-I was the one who spoke with him that night, yes.”

“Lay off the man, Alisiae,” Valliant says, though she doesn’t sound too scolding. He gets the sense she enjoys his embarrassment. “What can we do for you, Detective?”

“Count Edmont told me that you would have information on any security incidents involving Mister L’oatel,” Aymeric explains. “I’m trying to establish if Zenos Galvus is a viable suspect.”

Valliant sighs. “Alisiae, go run through drills. Make sure you focus on your center.” 

“But—”

“Now, Alisiae.” Valliant’s voice is firm and unyielding, and Alisiae pouts as she runs a decent distance off. “The kids don’t know about Zenos,” she says, turning to him. “And Pi-Mister L’oatel would like to keep it that way. They know someone broke into his room in Ul’dah, but we told them it was a simple robbery. Mister L’oatel doesn’t want to worry them. I think it’s a bad idea, but they’re his kids, so I don’t get to make that decision.”

“I see,” Aymeric says. “I’ll try to keep this brief, then. Have there been any incidents since you came to Ishgard?”

“No major ones, excluding Commander Greystone’s death, of course,” Valliant says. “To be expected, though. Zenos only broke in when we relaxed Pike’s detail during the Ul’dah shows. We were staying in the Sultana’s home, and she has her own guards. Clearly  _ not _ as well trained as my men, but I didn’t know that at the time. We tightened security after the attack in Ul’dah.”

Aymeric notes that down, and he mulls over her words for a moment, before something she said registers with him. “No  _ major _ incidents? So there have been minor ones?”   


“...Yes,” Valliant says after a moment. “Pike has a habit of going out at night. And a bad habit of not telling anyone beforehand. Normally, it wouldn’t be so bad, he would just run into one of the team and let them know, so they could go with him, but he slipped past them. Haurchefant woke up, noticed he was gone, and we spent an hour trying to track him down, only for him to turn up saying he’d gone to Hilda’s.”

“So Mister L’oatel doesn’t have as much concern for his own safety, then?” Aymeric asks.

Valliant snorts. “He  _ never _ has. He chafed at the increased security, said that Zenos was dealt with, so there’s nothing to worry about. As if that was my  _ only _ concern.”

“What  _ are _ your other concerns?”

“Well,” Valliant answers with a shrug. “If one fan could get to him, who’s to say another couldn’t? And...Ul’dah, the Sultana’s disappearance...it hurt him. They were really good friends. I keep expecting him to go charging off, looking for those responsible.”

Aymeric pauses. “He’d go looking for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn? They’re practically a ghost story. I didn’t even believe they were real until they attacked Ul’dah. I doubt a pop star could track them down.”   


“No, of course not,” Valliant says. She laughs a little. “It’s absurd to think about, right? And Pike knows better than to get involved with something like that.” She shifts uncomfortably. “Regardless, he hasn’t been out since that time without my knowledge.”

“Hm,” Aymeric says. He snaps his notepad closed. “Thank you for your time, Miss Skye.” 

There’s a laugh in the distance, towards his right, and Aymeric looks over. He spots Pike, sitting in the outdoor patio, laughing with a white haired man. They’re sitting quite close together, and Pike’s holding a guitar.

“Who’s that?” He asks Valliant, who looks in the same direction as him.

“Thancred Waters,” she says, and she makes a face. “Pike’s bandmate. He’s the only one who could get permission to come to Ul’dah with us.”

“I take it you don’t care much for him?” Aymeric says, quirking a brow.

She sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “He’s an incorrigible flirt, and then  _ I  _ have to chase off the adoring fans. It gives me a headache.”

Aymeric watches as Thancred tucks a piece of hair back from Pike’s face. “Are he and Mister L’oatel…”

Valliant looks at him sharply. “What? No, of course not. Pike was wholly devoted to Haurchefant. And Thancred’s a cad, but even he knows better than to shit where he eats.”

Aymeric nods. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to imply anything. They seem rather close, is all.”

“Yeah, yeah. They’re just close friends, Detective.” Valliant rolls her shoulders back. “Are we done? I’ve only got so long to work with Alisiae before she’s off to her tutors with her brother.”

“Yes, Miss Skye, I believe we are.” Aymeric extends a hand to her, and she shakes it firmly. “Thank you for your time, again, and if you think of anything else, please don’t hesitate to call.”

Valliant nods, and turns on her heel sharply, calling for Alisiae. Aymeric looks back over at Thancred and Pike, watching them with a shrewd eye.

* * *

_ The City of Ishgard, Capital of the Coerthan Province. April 19th. Saturday. _

“Detective Junius, there’s a call for you,” Vaincannet calls towards the bullpen. “Do you want me to transfer it?”

Lucia looks at the letters she’s been pouring over. “Yes, please,” she calls back. 

The phone rings for a fraction of a second before she picks it up. “Detective Junius. May I ask who I’m speaking to?”   


“This is Marshall Pippin Tarupin of the Ul’dah police force,” a clear, even voice answers. “I understand you were calling about a...Zenos Galvus?”

“Finally,” Lucia mutters to herself. “Yes, I was. What can you tell me about him?”

“Not much more than you already know, I assume,” he says. “I understand that Pike has been living in Ishgard for a few months, now? Did he ask you to look into the case for him? You can assure him we have it well in hand.”

“No, Marshall,” Lucia says. “We were looking into a possible connection between him and a recent murder. Mister L’oatel’s husband.”

“...I see,” the Marshall replies. “I’m very sorry to hear that, I should make a note to call him—but I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m afraid it’s quite impossible that Zenos Galvus was responsible for his death.”

“I understand that Ul’dah has been under quite a bit of distress, recently, is it possible that—”

“Did Pike not tell you how we found Zenos?” There’s a hint of amusement in Pippin’s voice as he cuts her off. “That’s just like him. Let me walk you through what happened.”

* * *

_ The City of Ul’dah, Capital of the Sultanate of Thanalan. January 15th. Wednesday. _

“Pike, are you certain you don’t want us to investigate this?” Pippin asks, holding a letter from Zenos in his hand. “I understand you can take care of yourselves, but this is—well. Beyond what you normally deal with.”

Pike rolls his eyes and holds his hand out for the letter. Pippin hands it over readily; he’s already made a few copies, just in case. “I’ll be  _ fine _ , Pippin. He doesn’t know about the twins, so he clearly can’t get that close to me. I just wanted you to be aware so if any strange men start hanging around the palace, you’ll let me know.”

“I’ll let Valliant know,” Pippin says with a sly smirk, and Pike smacks him on the shoulder. Valliant, standing behind Pike as always, snorts. “Fine. But I’ll up the security in the palace, anyway.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Pike says with a wave of his hand. He pats Valliant on the arm. “Valliant’s working with your teams already, we’ll fill any holes, won’t we Vall?—and with the preparations for the gala, you’ll need the extra hands.”

Pippin sighs heavily. “You’re right, damn you. Still, be careful, alright? You’re too precious to be whacked by a nutjob.”

“What a way to go though, right? I’d make so many headlines, get all those true crime documentaries about me—you know, dying might make me more famous than ever.” Pike grins toothily.

“And leave your kids without a home, and your sister without a brother,” Pippin points out.

Pike scowls. “You’re no fun.” He looks at his watch. “Oh, stars, I’m late. Tell your father hello for me, darling, I don’t know if I’ll see him before the gala starts tomorrow.”

“I will. Take care, Pike.” Pippin waves to him as he practically dances out the door. Valliant lingers.

“Did you need something, Vall?” Pippin asks, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

“He’s being...extraordinarily naive,” Valliant says. “I don’t get it. When we dealt with Gaius—”

“That was a bit of a bigger deal,” Pippin says with a shrug. “You know how Pike is. He’ll fight tooth and nail to protect other people, and then forget about protecting himself. And stalker cases are messy. I’ve only dealt with a few, and it’s hard to catch them in the act. Especially with Pike’s public persona. Hopefully, he’s just an exuberant fan who’ll go away when he doesn’t get an answer. Or we can nail him on a B&E.”

“Still...I don’t know. You know he applied for CC permits for me and my team?” Valliant crosses her arms and looks out the door, where Pike is tapping away on his phone. “But then he goes and tells you not to look into it.”

“You know I’m looking into it, anyway,” Pippin says with a laugh. “I think he just has a hard time asking for help.”

“Maybe.” Valliant shrugs, and straightens. “Alright, I’ve got to get the diva off to his next appointment. It’s hair day.”

“Oh, good luck to you, then. You’ll need it.”

Valliant laughs as she departs, following Pike out the door.

* * *

“So Miss Skye had doubts?”

“Valliant’s always been the shrewd type. Don’t get me wrong, though, I think Pike was scared. He wasn’t even late to that appointment, you know? I think he just didn’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“I see. And after that?”   


“Well…”

* * *

Pippin jolts from his sleep at the sound of his phone. Blearily, he reaches for it, hitting the answer button as he grabs it. “‘lo?” He mumbles.

“Hey, boss. Sorry to wake you,” Dancing Wolf replies. “There’s been an incident at the palace. With the pop star guy. Pike L’oatel?”

Pippin’s mind wakes fully in an instant, and he stands up. “What happened?”

“I...think you’d best come see. The bodyguard’s refusing to speak to anyone but you, anyway.”

“I’m on my way,” Pippin says, then he hangs up.

He dresses quickly, grabbing last night’s uniform off the ground, then races off, sirens blaring, towards the palace. He’s glad he chose the place closer to the palace, even with the sticker price that had come with it.

Less than five minutes sees him running up the steps, and he’s met with Dancing Wolf along the way. “I was the lead on shift tonight,” the broad man says. “When the caller mentioned it was the palace, it got directly escalated to me. I called you as soon as I got here.”

They divert into the guest wing of the palace, as fast as they can. Pippin curses his genetics for giving him the short end of the rope on height. 

The cop standing at the door gives them a nod, and opens the door to the guest suite. He sees Valliant, sitting on one of the arm chairs with a stricken expression. She looks up when she hears the door open, and at the sight of Pippin, sags with relief.

Pippin’s at her side in an instant. “What happened?”

“He broke in,” she says, running a hand down her face. “The Brass Blades said they’d cover the exterior walls, so I focused my people on the interior. Zenos he—he slipped passed the Blades, and scaled the wall to the window. Pike...woke up with a gun to his head.”

“Is he…” Pippin feels his heart drop to his stomach.

Valliant nods to the bedroom door, which stands open just a crack. “He’s in there. Hasn’t moved an inch since it happened.”

Pippin lets out a sigh of relief. “Where is Zenos now?”

Dancing Wolf steps up. “He was carted out of here just before you arrived. Ambulance is en route to Ul’dah General.”

Pippin’s eyes widen, and he turns back to look at Valliant. Now, he notices the large bruise blossoming across one cheek, the blood faintly staining her knuckles, and he realizes. “Nald’thal take me,” Pippin mutters.

“I didn’t...he just wouldn’t go down, Pippin.” Valliant scrubs a hand over her face. “I couldn’t hold him, he was too strong so I—I kept hitting him, hoping he’d go out. He just kept  _ laughing _ , Pippin. Like it was funny.”

“Dancing Wolf, go to Ul’dah General. Keep an eye on things.” Pippin says. Dancing Wolf nods, and salutes before heading out the door. “Valliant, if he dies, I don’t think...I don’t think we can claim self defense for this one.”

Valliant nods. “I know. I know. But...if he had hurt Pike, I don’t think I could forgive myself.”

* * *

Lucia has to take a deep breath before she’s able to respond. “So Zenos is still in the hospital, then?”

Aymeric steps out of his office, and Lucia waves him over, as Pippin responds. “It’s a bit more than that, I’m afraid. Since that night...he’s been in a coma.”

“I...see,” Lucia says. “Yes, that would make it hard to kill a man, I suppose. Thank you for your time, Marshall.”

“Of course, Detective. If you need anything else from me, this number is the best way to reach me.”

Lucia puts down the receiver slowly, and she looks up at Aymeric. He clearly caught the end of that conversation, like she intended, and she quickly fills him in on the rest. She watches the muscle in his jaw grow tighter and tighter as she speaks. "What now, sir?" she asks, after she's finished.

“Bring Valliant Skye in for questioning. There’s something going on here, and I intend to get to the bottom of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh ho ho, things are heating up now :3 This chapter was a bit harder to write for me, because all the fun stuff starts happening next chapter, and I just wanted to write that! Hopefully you all enjoyed this one and are looking forward to the next one with me!

**Author's Note:**

> My traitorous brain thought this would be more fun to work on than my main fic, apparently. So here we are! I've been kicking this one around since before I finished Little Words, actually. Things aren't going to be exactly one to one with canon (thus the appearance of Zenos in what is arguably a Heavensward era tale) because it's way more fun that way. 
> 
> This one probably won't have frequent updates, at least not until I'm done with Glitter & Gold and my Shadowbringers fic. It's just the place my brain goes when it needs a break. I hope you enjoy, though! Oh, and I posted this completely unedited at around 1:30 AM, so if you see any typos or unclear sentences please let me know!
> 
> Come yell at me on [Tumblr](www.lemoncakedesign.tumblr.com) or [Twitter!](www.twitter.com/LemonCakeStream) I have a lot of world building for this AU that I would love to share! For instance, I did come up with coffee orders for everyone who has appeared in the fic so far. Because I'm extra AF.


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